


Fourteenth of February

by Dannation (persianfire)



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persianfire/pseuds/Dannation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set years after Miles leaves the militia and some time before Charlie finds him. Once a year he and Bass call a ceasefire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourteenth of February

The fourteenth of February. It didn't mean a god damned thing anymore. Not that Miles had ever been into that lovey dovey shit before the blackout either, but now the day was like that of any other. Not many people used the old calendar anymore. But he knew one person who did.

Darkness had just fallen and there was still a bite to the wind making him shiver beneath his layers. That's what he told himself anyway. He stood next to a broken window in a derelict farm that had been abandoned for as long as he had been coming here.

People had tried to claim it, but neither of them would let anyone take what was theirs, and now this was just a place full of rotting memories and old ghosts. Miles didn't believe in that shit but it meant he didn't have to kill anyone; and he would. For this one night, he would.

He jumped when he felt arms wrap around his waist. "Bass," Miles uttered, voice gruff, hopefully sounding uninterested.

Bass laughed and licked his ear. "Still can't hear me sneak up."

Miles turned in his arms, their chests finally pressed together. "I should hope not, would mean you're slipping." 

Miles threaded his fingers through Bass' wild curls and pulled, steering Bass' lips to his. Their kiss was a fight for dominance, hard, violent, all warring tongues and biting teeth. He'd missed this. Sometimes this made him question his actions. 

Bass fumbled with Miles' pants, managing to undo them and shove his hands inside his long underwear.

Bass pulled away from their kiss, lips glistening with spit. Miles leaned forward and licked them needing to taste. Loving how he looked after they kissed. "Did you have to wear so many layers? So fucking unsexy."

Miles didn't answer. He'd spent three weeks travelling on foot and sleeping beneath the stars to get back here on time. Long johns had probably saved his life; or at least stopped his balls freezing off.

"Thought you might enjoy unwrapping your present." Miles said with a leer, pulling our his cock through the flap and jerking himself.

Bass groaned at the sight, his breathing becoming faster. "I want you, fucking, naked. I want to see what's mine." 

Miles laughed, he was still so possessive, even now, but Miles didn't have the heart to deny either of them. 

He stripped, no messing, no sweet seduction. But Bass looked at him like he was doing a striptease. The moonlight settled over them both from the broken window and Miles could see enough of Bass to know he was enjoying the reveal.

Bass looked young; like their time before the blackout. Or maybe just after when neither had the weight of the world on their shoulders. He was wearing nondescript clothing, not covered in Ms, which Miles was glad about. 

Since that fateful night Miles had tried to kill his best friend and lover, then left the Republic Bass had covered everything with that insufferable M they'd designed as children.

Miles knew it was Sebastian's fucked up way of saying he was forgiven, of asking him to come back, but he just couldn't. Bass had changed too much for that, and so had he. 

He was getting old. 

The cold air gave his arms goosebumps once he was naked, but one part of his anatomy didn't care about a little cold. His cock was painfully hard and desperately seeking out Bass. He could feel that tell tale tingle in his balls just from having Bass stand so close, even fully dressed.

He was like Pavlov's dog.

Bass dropped to his knees unceremoniously and engulfed Miles' cock like he was desperate for it. Miles groaned at the perfect heat surrounding him. Maybe Bass was desperate. He'd always enjoyed giving head, to him anyway.

And he loved receiving it, loved the heat of his mouth, and the talent of his tongue as it manipulated him. 

Bass' fingernails dug into Miles' ass keeping him steady and finding a rhythm. Since leaving the militia he'd had blowjobs from whores, from those desperate just to feel something. Men, women, it didn't matter to him, none of them were Sebastian Monroe, so it didn't matter what his preference was because none of them could do what Bass could.

No one else was Sebastian Monroe and that's what was so fucking fucked up and why neither of them could move on.

Miles' hands found Bass' hair again, and he started to take control, to fuck his mouth, making sure he rammed against Bass' throat, just how he liked it. Just how Bass liked it.

There was no time for hearts and flowers and slow love making. There was only harsh truth and an even harsher reality. This was all they had, and they shouldn't even have that. 

Valentine's was meant to be about love, and romance and all that shit, but this was a time when their rules were law, even if Miles didn't want them to be, and so they fucked each other like only they could, like only they knew how.

Bass pulled away gasping, spit pooling on the dirt floor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then grappled Miles to the ground. The floor was compacted dirt, rubble, and dust, and it dug into his back, but they'd done this on worse.

"Get naked." He was hungry for the sight of him and he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to see all of Sebastian. Every last inch.

Bass had more finesse than Miles but that had always been the case. He pulled off his clothes revealing his body slowly. Miles could see the difference a year brought. He could see the difference two years, ten years brought. He was still in shape, still fit, and so gorgeous it made his cock weep, but his muscles had lost the edge of field work. Most people wouldn't notice, but he was not most people.

His own body was thinner than usual. He'd lost weight on the trip here, and it's surprising how you lose weight when no one is bending over backwards to cook your favourite foods and feed you. But he was still all whipcord muscles and taut skin-vicious edges all tightly strung until someone did something and he unleashes his strength.

He does that now, only he puts all his power in pulling Bass onto the ground with him, pulling the other man over him until they were finally skin to skin and it didn't matter that Miles had tried to kill Bass and deserted, didn't matter that Bass had lost sight of their true mission and had become obsessed as well as a little insane.

Nothing mattered but this and how well their bodies still knew each other. 

Miles raked Bass' back with blunt fingernails, feeling the bumps of vertebrae and the sharp points of his shoulder blades. Bass humped his leg, while biting Miles shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks. Good, that's what he wanted. Needed to know that they had this night when they both went back to lives that didn't run in tandem anymore.

He closed his eyes so he could concentrate on what he was feeling. Bass' hard body on top of his. His cock smearing pre-come against his hip and how Bass' hands roamed his body like he was starving for touch.

Bass would never be starving for touch. Men, women...Jeremy, they'd all open their legs if that's what Bass wanted, but Miles felt a little smug that none of them would be him. No matter who Sebastian Monroe took to his bed he would always crave Miles touch.

It's probably why Bass hadn't killed him yet.

He could smell sex and man in the air and there was no better smell. Not when the men involved were him and Bass and the sex was sex between the two of them. 

Miles shifted their hips so his own erection had enough friction, and that feeling was as close to perfect as he'd ever felt. 

Bass finally left his shoulder alone, though Miles could feel the imprint of teeth still. He licked a strip from his jaw to his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, using teeth just enough to make Miles' cock jump.

He pulled off with a pop, spittle trailing between them. "It's my turn this time." 

Miles didn't object because it was true. If they were taking turns, and they seemed to be. He wasn't a natural bottom, not like Bass who needed little prep and got off on just the smallest touch, but sometimes he liked the hurt, and when a long year stretched between them he wanted to be filled in every possible way and he wanted to feel it for as long as he could.

Bass slid down his body, dragging his tongue through the hairs on his chest, sucking each nipple into his mouth until they stood on end. He laughed and carried on licking down to Miles' bellybutton. 

"Stop teasing," Miles grunted. He needed more than licks and love bites.

"Once upon a time you loved to be teased." Bass rolled his eyes upwards, chin resting on Miles' stomach. 

"Yeah, well, once upon a time I used to love a lot." The fun and playfulness left Bass' eyes and he was left with new Bass, the Bass who Miles didn't recognise because he wasn't the boy he'd grown up with, nor was he the man who was his best friend come lover. 

Miles wished he'd stayed quiet, he wanted his lover back, even if it was just an act for one night. But before he could say anything Bass shuffled further down and pressed his face into Miles' groin.

All pretence at playfulness gone. He sucked one of Miles testicles into his mouth while he massaged the other in his hand. Miles grunted and opened his legs wider. Saliva slid down the crack of his ass and Bass' fingers soon followed, smearing it around his sphincter muscle, shoving it inside with two fingers until Miles was slick, but still tight.

He bit at Miles' inner thigh, ignoring his cock and Miles figured he deserved that. He never meant to hurt Sebastian's feelings, kill him; at times, anger him; yes, but not hurt his feelings. He still remembers that broken young man sitting next to the graves of his entire family with a gun in one hand and a bottle in the other.

He touched Bass' head, not to control or hurt, but hopefully to say without words that he was sorry. For it all. Sorry things had to end up this way.

Bass knocked his hand away and knelt upwards. His face set in stony silence, eyes dull and mad. He obviously didn't accept Miles' non-apology and Miles didn't really blame him. 

This was president Monroe, after all. 

Sebastian spat a few times into the palm of his hand, covering his thick erection in slick and then he lifted Miles' legs over his shoulders. Using one hand at Miles' opening he thrust forward all the way until he was seated firmly inside.

Miles let out a breathless scream as his muscles protested at being being breached. He felt like he was getting split in two and before he had a chance to get accustomed to the feel Bass pulled out and rammed back inside. 

The pain was a dry, burning pain; as if he was being impaled on a hot pole. Hot intense-enough to bring tears to his eyes. There was nothing erotic or loving about it. Bass was showing him the difference, and a part of him wished for the loving man. Another part of him felt like he deserved this, part of him needed it. Even wanted it. 

His legs started to cramp from their position over Bass' shoulders and he let them fall down to the crook of Bass' arms. The pain in his ass was still fire-hot, painful, but it made his heart thump in his chest, made his cock harden again, and the moment the pain and pleasure mixed sent him up to the stars. This is what he missed, what he got with no one else. 

He and Bass were all kinds of fucked up. Needed to be to survive the marines, to survive the death of a family, and the death of the world as they knew it. If war, fighting and power didn't turn them on then neither of them would have survived this far.

They were both experts at turning pain into pleasure...and pleasure into pain. 

Miles grabbed Bass' face between both hands and forced a kiss on him. He only objected for a few seconds before joining in. Miles copied the movements of Bass' cock with his tongue, plundering his mouth and tasting himself there. They rutted together, both looking for that harsh kind of pleasure they only got with each other.

They pulled away, gasping for air, both lightheaded. 

"Come back with me." Every year he asked.

Miles looked up into Bass' eyes, saw a second of vulnerability before he was President Sebastian Monroe again.

Miles rubbed his chapped lips against Bass'. "Never." 

He didn't ask if Bass would leave with him, hadn't after the first time they'd met up on fucking Valentine's day. He never would. Bass was not made for small towns or villages, he definitely wasn't made for autonomy. He was made for power, for war and leadership and fucking.

Miles didn't know what he was made for anymore.

Bass hid his face against his shoulder and sucked up a red mark on the soft skin there. Miles grabbed his own dick and stared to pull, knowing Bass was close and wanting to come together. 

It hurt. The sex. The emotion, thinking about leaving, knowing that he must. Knowing that after everything they had been through that now, in this god forsaken world where they should have each others back more than ever, they were now enemies.

Bass screamed and pushed into him one last time before stilling and Miles felt the heat fill his channel, sending him to his own climax. 

Even when things were bad between them this was always outstanding. 

Bass collapsed on top of him and didn't move until Miles could feel his own come starting to dry and itch. He pushed Bass off, stood, only stumbling a little, and did his best to brush the dirt off his back and butt before stepping back into his underclothes.

Come and probably a little blood leaked down his thighs, but he didn't want to wash Bass away from him so soon. He wanted every pain and every little discomfort to last him for the next year.

Bass rolled over and watched him get dressed. "You'd better hurry. If I see you tomorrow, or next week, or next month, I'll kill you." He sat up, eyes never leaving Miles.

"Yeah. Same here." Miles stepped into his pants, pulled on his shirt, jacket, flung his bag over his shoulder and stood looking down at the one person in the world he loved beyond everything else.

He bent down awkwardly and pressed his mouth against Bass'. It wasn't a kiss, but rather a touch. Simple, sad. Heart breaking, really.

"Same time, same place."

Miles stood up and saluted him. "Until next year." He walked away. One foot in front of the other.

"Unless I kill you before then." 

Miles didn't answer.


End file.
